Snapshots
by hills of happiness
Summary: As he moved deeper into to core of his mind, he noticed that it was getting darker..." Theme 2: Light: Featuring Spain's "other face". Theme 3: Dark: Featuring Russia and his issues.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

**Theme Number 1: Introduction**

**Featuring Rome and Gaul**

"Why hello, little boy," Rome drawled. He offered him a big, hairy, hand. "Shake?" The boy stared at it as if it was a fish that had died several weeks ago.

Suddenly, Gaul bit him. The little shit! Then he ran into the forest, his tangled and matted blond braid flying out behind him.

Rome winced in pain, but he didn't care that the boy had run away. He would come around eventually. They all did. It always started this way, with the hostile first encounter. After some effort, they would get to know each other a little better. They would move past biting. Rome would only make his final "offer" when rougher, stranger barbarians were breaking down Gaul's door. And Gaul would accept.

He had done this many times before. Some resisted more than others, but the end result was always the same.

Rome thought himself a rather cunning fox in a dog-eat-dog world. "Hey, kid," he said lazily, "Wait up!" Taking his time to enjoy the scenery, he sauntered slowly after Gaul.

And so it began.

**They sort of used this strategy in Ancient Rome. Rome (sort of) respected the people it conquered, so when it was taking over small states that were threatened by many armies at once the states preferred to surrender to Rome (back then, everybody was conquering everybody else, so being threatened by multiple armies happened more than you might think. Life sucked back then). They figured if they couldn't keep their independence, they might as well keep their religion, culture, and all that. **

**Has anyone else read Asterix? You'll totally get the last line if you do. **

**Theme Number 2: Light**


	2. 2: Light 3: Dark

_Character, in the long run, is the decisive factor in the life of an individual and of nations alike._

_Theodore Roosevelt_

**Theme Number 2: Light**

"Don't you ever stop moving?" said Vietnam, amazed.

Spain stopped in surprise. Then he laughed at the irony. "Sometimes. Not often"

"You know," said Vietnam, sensing a golden opportunity for expanding young minds, "If you get really, really, good at meditation you can lower your core body temperature by up to 10 degrees."

"Really?" Spain grinned. "Is that why that monk set himself on fire?"

"That's totally different," hissed Vietnam, "Now shut up and sit down." Spain grinned again. He sat. "Okay, now breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Fill your belly first…"

Spain was pleasantly surprised. He was actually pretty good at this meditation stuff.

As he moved deeper into to core of his mind, he noticed that it was slowly getting darker. Eventually, it became so impossibly dark that Spain wasn't sure if this kind of dark even existed in the real world. Experimentally, he swiped his hand across the darkness.

It left a streak of burning white. Amazing. He did it again. Another streak, just as bright as the first. Spain grinned. He drew a sun in the darkness with his fingertips. Although Spain considered himself a pretty good artist (Picasso, Dali, Gaudi, anybody?), he noticed that the sun looked more like a blazing fried egg without something else to put it in perspective. So he drew a horizon.

A fried egg and a line, fiery white against the blackness. This would never do. Spain put a little church on the ground. Trees. A grape plantation. Miniature farmhouses, roads, horses, markets. In a fit of creativity, he changed the horizon a little and made a mountain.

There. That looked more like it. His mural took up his whole field of view. The details were stunning; it might have been a photograph if not for the strange contrast of smoldering white light and dense, tarry, darkness.

But it looked like the darkness was more brittle than it looked, because Spain saw it breaking. He saw little white pinpricks where he definitely hadn't put any. On the roads, under the trees, in the church, in the fields. They were moving, too. There was even one on the horse! And the horse was moving!

Spain was amazed. Wow, he really was a good artist.

He watched the little people make friends. They sang hymns together in church. They plowed the fields together. Sometimes they took naps. Spain could swear that he watched a couple of amateur hikers plan their weekend on the mountain. Magnificent. Out of curiosity, Spain prodded one of the little people with his finger. No reaction. He smeared a lightning bolt that started in the sky and ended on the head of a sleeping baby. A small one, so there wouldn't be much mess if he did something wrong.

When he lifted his finger, it was stained ruby red. Perfect! Spain was tired of all the black and white. His eyes drank the rich red color like a couple of thirsty horses at a desert oasis. He decided it was a lovely shade, just the color of the sky at sunset. That would be his next project. He would make the sun set. Wiping the red on the corner of the sky, he looked back on the ground and chose his next victim. There. The parents of the baby had found the poor thing dead, broken, bleeding. To his great surprise, Spain could actually hear them crying. He put them out of their misery and squashed them too.

Wonderful. Beautiful. Fabulous. But he needed more. The sky was rather large.

It didn't take long for Spain, ever inventive, to find new ways to get that perfect shade of red. He drew weaknesses in the structure of a farmhouse roof. A gentle nudge at the right time made it fall on the heads of the hikers, who had been about to depart for their long-awaited hike. Adding an extra couple of inches of cloth to a dress, hung dangerously close to a cooking fire, set a whole plantation, and everyone in it, ablaze. The people were close to hysterical now. Strict, new building regulations were passed in the town hall, and the volunteer fire department tripled in size. Angry citizens burned down the sheriff's house. It was very cute.

But it took too long. Spain could be collapsing buildings and setting fires for the next decade and he still wouldn't be able to fill the sky.

So he gave them guns.

They did the rest themselves. Poor, scared, desperate little things.

Spain was delighted. At first, he hadn't been sure if there were enough people. Apparently there were! He spread the red all over his hands and wiped it across the sky. The picture looked better than ever now. The ruins were picturesque and lovely. The many fires had left delicate shades of ashy gray on the cobblestone streets. Everything, even the birds, was dead.

The sun set in a sky of blood, and night fell upon the deserted village.

**Theme number 3: Dark**

The convicted felon had escaped, and was running unimpeded through the streets of Moscow. Horns honked, taxis swreved, lights flashed through the rain in irritation. Glowing advertisements were lighting up, one by one, and it was getting colder. Russia was running as fast as he could from those bad men who wanted to take him to a bad place, far away from his sisters.

He knew they were only trying to help. They thought he was the bad one; that they should lock him up to keep him from hurting good people. Russia could go quietly and hope they would let him explain, but they wouldn't understand. They hadn't at the trial.

Belarus was so scary! She had knives under her dress, and she just kept coming closer and closer… It was self-defense. He didn't _want_ his sister to get hurt. But, he thought, the look on her face when he turned her own knives against her? That was priceless. Normally, she was the one scaring everybody else. Hah! Russia giggled. Irony at its finest. Too bad he had to cut her face off, because he would rather have kept her scared.

The lawyers hadn't spent much time on what he had done to Belarus. They sort of understood his situation there, guessed Russia. Belarus probably scared them too. But Estonia had been a pretty likeable guy. Sure, he was a little cold, but once you got to know him he was really great. Estonia was one of Russia's best friends! He would sing folk songs whenever Russia asked him to, he would fix his computer whenever it crashed, and he knew a lot of great ghost stories too!

Which was why Russia was really hurt when Estonia blamed him for what happened to Belarus. Estonia didn't even like Belarus! He didn't even wait to hear Russia's side of the story. Maybe he was a little disturbed after he found her. She had looked pretty disturbing. Pretty… she was pretty. Pretty disturbing. Heh heh. Russia giggled at the clever pun.

Still, friends didn't call the cops on friends. When he found Estonia on the phone, he had been so angry. Estonia was a nice guy, but he deserved what he got.

"A-and, I think I might know who did it. It was probably Iv-Ivan Brag- Oh God! He's here!"

In hindsight, Russia should have hung up the phone before Estonia started screaming. That must have looked very bad. And he screamed for such a long time, too.

He didn't know why they spent so much time at the trial on the way he treated Estonia (Latvia and Lithuania too) before that little _incident_. It it was wrong, surely someone would have told him so. And no one had. Russia thought there was a severe lack of communication going on. He didn't understand them, and they didn't understand him.

Wait! There- wasn't that the hospital where they were keeping his dear sister, Belarus? Russia decided to pop in for a bit, just to see how she was doing. But if she was creepy or mean to him again, he might have finish her. You know, out of self-defense. He hoped that wouldn't happen.

He loved his sister so.

**Theme 2: Light: Author's note:**

**Yeahhh…. Sane people don't see things like that when they meditate; Spain is completely batshit. Basically, I wanted to explore Spain's other "face" while keeping him in character. I think of Spain as being like the "light" half of a yin yang. He's mostly cheerful and bubbly and that's what people see, but he has some darkness in him too. That's the theme… Kind of obscure, I know. I don't really like how the whole thing takes place in his head. It's too abstract.**

**Think of it like this: Spain is an innocent guy with a sadistic streak, and Russia is a sadistic guy with an innocent heart. Which brings us to the next theme:**

**Theme 3: Dark: Author's note**

**NEW GOAL: end a story with a full paragraph! Haha… And write something funny, too. And more setting… sorry I'm just running my mouth now.**

**I realized that I kind of lost the themes in these two. I was having too much fun writing the crazy. Whatevs. xD I like this one a lot better than the first one.**

**I put a lot of effort into these! Please review so I can make it through the next ninety seven!**


	3. 4: Love 5: Seeking Solace

I know you said that you didn't need any help on grammar, but I spotted a few typos in your work, so I thought you'd appreciate it if I corrected them :) So I've done that and sent the new version back to you – it was nothing major, but a 'to' where a 'too' should have been and an odd capital letter and a couple of full stops after speech where commas should have gone. That's about it.

As for the content – I think you did stray away from the theme a bit in the first one...a nice ending between Canada and America would have been nice, otherwise, well, I think I just want to read on and find out where Canada is XD It's a mystery with no solution! But the second one I really liked. I expected it to be a bit more serious, but I actually think it works really well the way you wrote it. I feel rather sorry for Japan though XD And China, in fact!

And now for a tutorial in how to insert line-breaks on FFN – when you edit the document, there's a button next to the button that centres the text that just looks like a line. If you hover over it it'll say 'line-break' or something similar, but you'll probably spot it. Just click in the text to wherever you want it and click the button and voila! Instant line-break~ It'll probably move the text beneath it down a line too (it always does for me) so if you then just backspace, everything will be how you want it :) Hope that was helpful! If you want any more specific feedback on anything, let me know, otherwise I hope I've done my job satisfactorily XD

**Theme Number 4: Love**

**Featuring: Canada's Prime Minister (not Harper, just some guy) and the U.S.A.**

" 'Sup." The voice of the United States of America crackled out of the phone.

"Hello, Al," said the Prime Minister of Canada, frostily, "Would you happen to know where your brother is?"

"Canada?" America tried to raise his eyebrows, but his phone started slipping. So he stopped. "No. Why ask?"

"No one's seen him for a week." Oh dear. America hadn't seen Canada for a very long time, but that, he thought guiltily, that was normal.

"I wouldn't be too worried," said America, "he's probably doing that ghostie thing again." But as soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew they were false. False! False, I say, screamed America's twintuition.

"No, America," said the Prime Minister, irritated, "We've actually looked for him."

"Oh," said America. His stomach was starting to sink uncomfortably fast. "Well. I don't know. Sorry. Have you asked Cuba or Denmark? The Netherlands?"

"Al, I highly doubt that any of the others knows something about Canada that you don't."

"Maybe you shouldn't be so sure. Canada's like, totally gay for The Netherlands." It took America a moment to realize the truth in his own words. Canada had eloped! No! He knew he should have paid more attention to his brother. He needed affection so much that he had run away with some island state! Or, at least, he hoped The Netherlands was an island state, thought America grimly, because he wouldn't have to worry about the effects of a radioactive fallout after he bombed it to hell.

"Well, America, if you don't have any informati-"

"Wait! Is there anything I can do? You know, to help? Please?"

"Canada does not need your help. Please don't go looking for him or anything silly like that," the Prime Minister answered with distaste.

"Why not?" demanded America.

"You two are already much too close. Now, I ha-"

"No we're not! We're not close at all. Actually, I'm pretty sure Canada hates me. So pardon me, I'm going to go start a search party now." America wondered why he was bothering to set up a search party for someone who hated him. He immediately decided it wasn't his problem. They would need their parkas, he thought, it was cold up there. Hang on, Canada, help was coming!

"Sure." The Prime Minister snorted. "He hates you. And that must be why you two look exactly the same, eh? God, you even have the same haircuts," he muttered, "Disgusting," but America didn't hear him.

"We look the same because we're twins."

"You weren't even born in the same century."

"Oh, shut up and let me look for him already," snapped America.

"No. America, my job is to keep Canada sa-"

" I don't car-"

"Listen to me!" God, this boy was so dense! "Canada's a good kid. His only bad decision was you! Because you, America, are a bad influence. If I catch you too close to my country, I swear I will chase you away myself! I won't let you be the death of Canadian culture. And, young man," he hissed, "I know your type. One of these days you're going get yourself invaded, start World War Three, collapse into a black hole under the weight of your own fat ego, or all three. And when that happens, I will not allow Canada to be dragged down with you! Are we clear?"

"Yeah," said America sulkily.

"Stay away from my baby," warned the Prime Minister.

_Click_.

**Theme Number 5: Seeking Solace (A theme that really wants to be a Hurt/Comfort fic)**

**Featuring: China and Japan**

"Everyone hates me!" cried China. Japan rubbed his back awkwardly. "They think I'm a baby killing bastard."

"That's ridiculous. You're not a baby killer or a bastard," said Japan.

"Exactly!" wailed China.

Japan decided not to say anything, and kept awkwardly rubbing China's back.

"They probably just disagree with your lifestyle choices," he said finally, "And if they're prejudiced, there's no reason to want them to like you." Japan's voice was firm and authoritative.

"It just feels so right, aru. But they hate me for it. And it hurts." China turned away, so that Japan couldn't see the manly tears of pain that were pooling in his eyes.

"You're not _that_ Communist, anyway."

"They still h-hate me."

"Capitalist pigs," said Japan phlegmatically.

"Not just you capitalists. Did you know," said China, "Mao followed Stalin wherever he went for almost a week and Stalin didn't even look at him?"

"Why would he do that?"

"How should I know? I told you before," here China buried his face in Japan's shoulder, "all they think I'm good for is making cheap, poisonous, lead based paint."

Silence.

"I have other talents!" wailed China, "I can sing! Do you want to hear my Peking Opera?"

"N-no! Don't sing! Be-because, um, the last thing you need in your current state is more stress. On your vocal chords."

"Ah, but it's okay. You've heard me before. You know," China looked soulfully into Japan's pupil-less eyes, "your eyes are very creepy, aru."

"I apologize, China-san."

"So you already know! The only time you call me san," said China happily, "is when you're insecure. They look soulless, aru. They really do."

"A-ah?"

"Hey Japan," said China, "Remember Nanjing?"

"Wh-what?"

"Nanjing? You don't remember? She still remembers you. Hey Japan," said China, tilting his head to one side, "do you hate me too?"

"N-no! Of course I don't, China-san!"

"Again with the san, Japan." China sighed. Then, deciding it hadn't been dramatic enough, he sighed again. Suddenly, he stood up.

"Japan, your katana is so shiny." China held it in his hands, turning it over and over again. It flashed in the sunlight.

"China, that's mine. What are you going to do with it?" Japan tried to get up, but China pushed him back down. With his foot.

"Oh, dear little Japan. Think about it." A gleefully wicked grin. "What did you do to me?" The blade whistled through the air and-

Japan woke up screaming.

He stopped, rubbed his eyes and took a few gulps of air. Suddenly, he felt warm breath tickle his ear.

"Japan, aru… Answer the question."

**Theme 4: Love: Author's Note**

**So, hazel-beka, my super awesome beta, says I strayed from the theme and it would be a good idea to conclude the story. I tried to change it, but IT WAS SO FREAKIN HARD TO WRITE (I had to rewrite Theme 4 about five times just to get what I have now). So maybe I'll just conclude it with a second part later… and screw the theme, I give up. **

**Theme 5: Seeking Solace: Author's Note**

**Seriously, I'm starting to creep myself out.**

**New goal! I'm going to write something where no one dies, gets hurt, or goes missing.**


End file.
